


Running

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe, Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damien is on the run, moving from place to place and yet he's not quite sure why</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Deep with in the underworld, a ship, midnight blue in colour, smoothly sails along what seems like an endless ocean. From this ocean the sound of the long dead pirates and mutineers can be heard crying and begging for the mercy they are never to receive. At the back of the ship, a black haired man can be seen, leaning on the metal railings, lost in a world of his own. This man, Damien, is more commonly known around the underworld as the son of Satan. Many believe there is nothing that can frighten him.

Damien stared up at the grey clouds of smoke above his head, questioning why it took so long to reach his destination, occasionally even questioning why he bothered to make the journey. When he did ask himself that question the answer always came back to him faster than he would of hoped. Eventually bringing his eyes away from the smoke, he reached into his pocket and brought out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Normally he would have no need for a lighter but in the living world, someone could not, or rather should not, be capable of making fire appear at their fingertips. This meant that while he would be there, he was going to have to try and act more like a normal human, so as to not raise suspicions. He lit the cigarette.

Seconds before the deafening sound of a fog horn was to be heard, Damien shielded his ears and took great joy in watching some of the less fortunate passengers who had not expected it and now were screaming. He threw what was left of his cigarette overboard and into the ocean before heading inside to his cabin. It was about standard for the ship, a reasonably comfy single bed, a seat, a desk, dresser and bathroom. Collapsing onto the bed, Damien slowly began to return to his fantasies, most to do with the real world and the people he often saw there.

It was yet another hour before he once again opened his eyes and just as he did the room began to go white, the room seeming to simply slide off the walls. The black haired boy stood up and just kept walking forward until he started to see his destination. At the sight of it, he broke out into a run, as if he was expecting it to make an attempt to run from him. As he reached it a large red door blocked the way, with the number 14384 wrote in blue lettering at the top. Damien turned the gold doorknob and opened the door. Beyond it lay a snowy town which he once knew but hardly ever bothered to visit anymore. He readied himself, thinking of a disguise to adapt and the best way to make it as believable as possible in such a short amount of time. Taking a deep breath, Damien walked through the door into what would be, even for just a short time, his new life.


	2. Chapter 2

Damien put out his hand as a bronze timer fell down, landing perfectly in the palm of his hand. The Anti-Christ looked at it as he unravelled the chain that was attached to it. He has 1 month to spend in this town and at the end of the month, he would either have to return or run from the town. If he was to choose to run, he would miss his opportunity to get back to the underworld the simple way, if he wished to return after that he'd either have to find an open 'portal' or someone would have to come fetch him. Damien put the chain attached to the timer around his neck and quickly hid it under his shirt, out of sight.

Around noon, the black haired man entered the real estates. The owner looked up from his newspaper and stared at him, as if trying to place where he may of seen him before. The owner sighed and put down the paper before walking over to greet the man. Before he could open his mouth the man spoke.

"How much is it?" Damien pointed to a picture of a long since deserted house, "I'll be buying it."

The man had made it as simple as possible, he was desperate for a sale after all and after all the stories about the town getting loose, absolutely no one had been buying. Damien entered the house and walked over to the living room, throwing his recently acquired messenger bag onto the couch. It had been about a year or two since the house was deserted and had been left in a bad shape. The owners left after their three children died in the town, seemed to disappear overnight, taking all the good furniture with them. Damien sat down on the couch and began to rummage through the bag. He took out a pair of jeans, black t-shirt and a zip up hoodie for a band he'd never heard of. Other than that all that was in the bag were sketch pads, stationary, a wallet and charcoal. He put the bag down and put the clothes on, after stealing an old, tattered, red newsboy hat from a coat hanger in the cupboard.

"How much?" Damien looked up from the sketchpad and smiled.

"Two dollars, half price this hour, interested?" He said putting the piece of charcoal back in it's box. The man looked down at him then nodded but then turned on his heels and walked away. The black haired man watched him leave, slightly confused, it took him a minute to recognise the orange jacket, yet no name sprung to mind. The man must have been one of the ones who stayed, willing to put up with everything that had gone wrong in the town before. Suddenly a thought struck Damien.

"Hey, what happened to the British boy?" Damien called after the man and he stopped in his tracks. He turned round and pulled his balaclava from his face.

"Left like the others." With that, he pulled the balaclava back over his mouth and continued walking as if he was never stopped. The Anti-Christ looked down at his drawing, ripped it out the sketch book and set the piece of paper a lit. He threw it down and watched as the drawing he'd been working on disappeared and the paper became frail and black.


	3. Chapter 3

For the first 15 days in the town, Damien spent a large amount of time drawing and occasionally selling some of the drawings. Almost the entire house had been littered with scraps of paper, all with some attempt at drawing on them, some finished, some not. He didn't care about these pictures though and if anyone offered anything for them he'd give them away. Damien was woken up by the light coming through the windows every morning, he was thankful for this though. His nights tended to be filled with nightmares of his pursuer and what punishment would be. The black-haired man sat up and rubbed his eyes, before picking up a digital camera he had acquired. He took a quick picture and checked it to make sure he was still disguised, which he of course was, before continuing with his day. He quickly got dressed and grabbed his bag before heading off to the nearest shop.

"I see your still drawing." A girl's voice came from behind him and Damien quickly spun round.

"Are you drawing him again?" She asked, Damien shook his head. He didn't like talking with many people around here. It would be troublesome if they remembered him too well. Sadly, this girl insisted on talking at him every time she saw him. He tended to just block out the girl's voice but this time something she said caught his attention.

"You know, he reminds me of someone, can't remember who though. Maybe Kenny knows, he seems to remember almost everyone." Now she had his attention but now she just shrugged and went off on her merry way. Damien watched her leave before looking back at his book and starting another picture.

The first day of the new month, the day he had to leave the little town. Packing the camera, a change of clothes and his drawing set. He hadn't slept the night before and would be getting the earliest bus out as possible. Of course he had no need to say goodbye, it would be easier if he was just to be there one evening and gone the next morning. Looking at the time, Damien headed out to the bus stop and sat down yawning. The bus wasn't due for another 15 minutes, his walk there had been faster than he thought. He stared up at the ceiling of the small shelter as the snow slowly fell on it. It took a minute before he noticed the person approaching since he had ended up so deep in his memories. Kenny sat down beside him and looked in his direction before nodding.

"Good luck finding him." Kenny then stood and walked away as the snow grew heavier over the town. Damien stared after him even after he had gone out of sight. He didn't look away till he heard the bus stop a few metres away.

Paying the fare, Damien headed to a seat a few rows from the back, taking the window seat on the left side. In front of him a tired older man slept and a couple of other people were littered about the bus, many also asleep. Some people seemed like they had no destination and had just been searching for shelter from the outside world. A woman holding a toddler, a man clutching what seemed to be a family photo, a girl who stared absent-mindedly out of the window, drawing pictures whenever it fogged up. Everyone had stories to tell but frankly, Damien didn't care. He had heard it all before, heard stories from people who may well have been in some way connected to them. At first he felt pity for such people, but now he had stopped caring. Yet, he himself had no true destination, just wishing to get as far as possible from that place. Maybe he could relate to them slightly, though he had no wishes to.

"Is this seat taken?" Damien shot up and looked round. It was a boy about his age with short cut blonde hair and dressed just a tad better than himself. Damien shook his head and put his hand out in a simple gesture for 'be my guest' in some way.

"Thank you." The boy say down beside him and began to look around, trying to find something to interest himself. Damien, now doubting he'd be able to return to his daydreaming state since this boy seemed the talkative type, pulled out his sketchbook and went back to one of the drawings he had been working on.

"You're very good at drawing." Damien was right about him being talkative but since he had no wish to talk he simply nodded a 'thank you'. The blonde did seem to take the hint and fell silent again, occasionally looking over at the other's drawing. He was drawing a boy with longish hair and a silly little hat but it still suited him, he had wings of many feathers that seemed delicate but soft and a halo that glistened in the sunlight. Yet the boy in the drawing looked saddened, as if missing something. Thinking over why this may be, the blonde finally came to one conclusion, an artist shows his/her feelings through their work so surely that is what the raven-haired man was doing.

"Are you looking for someone?" He asked, grabbing the attention of Damien. Damien thought about it for a second.

"Yes." Damien's voice was cold and aloof, he didn't break eye contact with the blonde for a long while. When he did he looked at the drawing before asking a question.

"What's your name?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Phillip, what's yours?" The blonde answered smiling at him. Damien paused before answering, something beginning to click in his mind but it hadn't quite managed just yet.

"Damien." He didn't return the smile, instead giving an unpleasant scowl, not lifting his eyes from his work. He continued working on the drawing, though he was fully concentrated on figuring out why this man seemed to ring so many bells inside his head but just couldn't figure it out.

"It's not every day you meet someone with a name like that. What an odd name. I mean no offence, I mean it really suits you and I personally like it for a name an-"

"Shut up, Phillip." Phillip instantly stopped talking and looked down at his hands, which were resting on his knees. They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither looking up but Phillip ended up looking over at the drawing again. Damien could see him from the corner of his eye but choose just to ignore him. He managed this for around five minutes, before sighing and putting his things away. He leaned back on his seat and looked at the blonde.

"Well?"

~~~~Magical time lapse~~~~

"So you have been travelling to try and find that boy?" As they had been talking Damien had noticed Phillip getting considerably closer to him physically.

"Yeah, I got on this bus back at a place named South Park." Damien had ended up smiling during their chat but only after they had started talking about him, he enjoyed talking about himself from time to time even if he had to make up a couple of lies.

"South Park? There was a lot of stories about bad things happening there a while back. What's it like now?"

"Practically a ghost town. Not many stay there anymore and it snows all the time. Nothing seems to happen, I was a little disappointed."

"I would love to visit it some day." Phillip looked down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs and smiling.

"Maybe you can take your girlfriend some day." Damien smirked at him.

"I don't-" The bus came to a stop, it was the second last one. Phillip began frantically scrawling on a piece of paper he had in his pocket. "That's my stop, it's been nice meeting you. Here's my number if you ever want to call me." Damien took the piece of paper, putting it in his pocket. When he looked up Phillip was almost at the door.

"Hey Phillip!" Phillip turned when he heard Damien shouting to him, "Can I call you Pip?"

Phillip stopped and looked at him for a second before nodding and getting off the bus.

"Most everyone does." he whispered quietly to himself. He turned and watched the bus drive away, seeing Damien had returned to drawing.

~~~~Yet another time lapse~~~~

Damien got off the bus, silently lifting the a passenger's mobile, claiming it as his own. Sure he passenger would notice but it was a cheap phone and he would make it appear his. He spent as little time as possible on this and as soon as it was set up as his, he added Pip's number. He wasn't sure why he was bothering or why he had asked to call him such a thing. He hadn't been thinking at the time probably, but something had decided to call him that. Why was he bothering though? Pip didn't have his number, he could just ignore it and never phone him. Then again, Pip knew so much, it would be better to have some form of communication with him. If that information was leaked, Damien was likely to be caught and killed along with Pip, surely the blonde would be punished for acting so friendly to him. Still it interested him, his own death. The anti-Christ dying, seemed… silly, for lack of a better word. It sounded impossible but something told him it was perfectly possible and probably was ten thousand times worse a pain than a human would have. Then there was Pip, carefree, easygoing, Pip. They would take no mercy on him though despite it all.

Why was he thinking of a boy he had just met on a long bus ride so fondly. Damien sighed, still feeling like maybe something in his brain still wasn't clicking, putting two and two together. The black-haired man looked up at he sky as a raindrop landed on his nose. Here he was in a place he'd never seen before, no where to go, no idea what he was doing, worrying about a nobody(or maybe somebody, he could never be sure) and it had started raining. Damien began to run, attempting to find shelter as it quickly turned to a storm.

In the end he climbed over a fence into the garden of an empty house, it had either been empty for a while or the previous owners had no interest in their garden. It was beyond overgrown and most things were just weeds. There was no where outside to stay so Damien quietly stood beside the door, sheltered from the storm. As soon as the next clash of thunder happened he broke open the door and entered. Unlike the last house, these people left everything behind, including many cans of food, none opened or out of date, aside from a tin or peaches. Damien grabbed a can of baked beans, cooking them by his own means. It was nice for him just to sit back and watch the storm.

Then his phone went off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies that I may have got the spelling of Phillip/Philip confused here. Hopefully I'll remember which to use in the future.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a text. Damien relaxed and picked up the phone, opening the message to see who it was from.

"Sorry if I woke you, Damien. I couldn't sleep, needed someone to talk to. -Pip" He smiled to himself and closed the message.

Pip must have been seriously lonely to have decided to send him messages at this time. He had probably asked all his other friends first and got no response from them either. Well Damien wasn't going to be any different from them.

Still, Pip really was persistent.

"You'll probably think me weak for being scared in a storm, right? - Pip"

He had to admire his persistence now that he thought about it. Still, he would not answer. Comforting wasn't exactly his forté, in any way shape or form now that he thought about it. He hadn't comforted anyone properly up until now and he sure as hell wasn't starting now.

"Sweet dreams, Damien. -Pip"

Knocking. Someone was knocking on the door. Who knocks on the door of an empty house? Damien wondered curiously. He may have been curious but he was not stupid. Most likely it was one of two things. First would be the police, meaning someone had saw him break in and reported it. Second, well the second thing would be his nightmares being made real. Either way, he obviously wasn't opening that door. Quickly he grabbed his bag, having already filled it. Damien dashed for the upstairs window as the knocks continued. The knocks seemed to be getting louder since no matter how far away he was from the door, the volume of them never seemed to fade.

It took the black haired man a matter of minutes to find a smashed window on the opposite side of the house, but he'd waited too long. Damien heard the door as it came off, ripped from it's old hinges and possibly in an even worse shape than before. He got half way out the window when he stopped, frozen in his tracks, as he heard hissing from downstairs.

Not hissing like a cat does when it's angry. There weren't many animals that could make such a peculiar hissing noise. Though when those humans trapped in Hell spoke of the noise, they usually thought of a snake. A snake wasn't accurate. No, they were hardly similar. This hissing. It was a noise that sent shivers down any man's spine and made people break out in cold sweat. No one dared move when they heard the sound. It seemed to petrify people.

Damien could hear it moving closer to the stairs and broke out of the trance he barely noticed he had slipped into. Maybe he was getting to human but that wasn't something to worry about now. Quickly he slipped out the window and onto the window-ledge but from here he didn't have many moves to make. Beneath him lay a bed of stinging nettles and brambles and he couldn't really go up without being seen. There was a good 6 metres, possibly more, between where he stood and the fence.

There was no time to think and he ended up jumping, hoping beyond hope not to miss and make a noise. He got lucky of course. Landing on the fence but sadly he had no sense of balance. The black haired man landed face down on the pavement and made quite a bit of noise. They definitely heard that and by the screeching noise that could be heard, they weren't happy. Damien had to be thankful that the screech was too high pitched for most to hear, now if only he didn't have to hear it.

Now was time to run. The creature wasn't his worst nightmare, it was simply like a hunting dog to his pursuer except far too slow. Sure it had the power to break Damien in to pieces but that would involve catching him. Even if it didn't follow him, a man jumping out a deserted house had probably caught some people's attention.

The thing about running is, a destination is almost always necessary and it was something Damien lacked. He could run all day with no destination but it was unlikely to achieve anything other than maybe some weight loss which he didn't honestly need. By the evening, Damien was sitting in a tree, eating a light meal and checking his phone for new messages.

"Would you like to come over for dinner at some point? -Pip"

His only message. Surely Pip would have better things to do than have dinner with a man he met on the bus. Well apparently not so Damien finally replied with a 'yes'.

He had two days to get there. He could easily make the journey on foot of course, or if he even found an area where no one would see him he could teleport. Still, until then he had to figure out where to stay. He could stay in the trees but for a start people would question it, another thing being he still somehow managed to think of himself to highly to sleep in such a place.

Suddenly an idea hit him. From all the messages Pip sent him he didn't seem to have much company. In fact, he must be pretty sick of being all on his lonesome. Damien had the perfect idea on how to hit two birds with one stone. Pip would have company, he'd have a place to hide for a few days. Yes, it was the perfect solution.

Time for Pip to get a lodger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been brought to my attention that apparently lodger is a British word and not everyone knows what it means. It's pretty much a tenant or something like that.  
> Also there is something in this chapter which may strike you s off and brownie points to anyone who notices it.


	6. Chapter 6

"Excuse me sir, what are you doing?" Damien spun round shoving his hand into his pocket as fast as he could. One of the members of staff raised their eyebrow at him.

"Nothing, sorry just looking at some books is all." Damien did his best to smile without looking too suspicious but he could tell from the look the worker was giving him that he'd failed. The good thing was, pushing the matter any further would have been a waste of the worker's time and he wasn't paid enough to waste time. Damien was left to continue looking at the older books the library had. It was practically dead in the library so he didn't have too worry to much about people worrying him, apart from pesky workers. Grabbing one of the books, he sat and relaxed on one of the stools to read. It didn't look that interesting a read and hadn't been checked out much but anything to keep him busy.

Just as he opened the book he heard a familiar voice that seemed far too happy.

"Damien!" Pip shouted from the other end of the library, being hushed by his co-workers. He had a big stupid grin spread wide across his face like he'd never been so happy to see someone in his life. The blonde ran over and sat on the stool next to Damien's, looking over at the book Damien had picked up before figuring it wasn't all that interesting.

"What are you doing here?" Pip asked.

"I'm looking for a place to stay, just taking a break here." He replied, putting the book on the floor. It was well in the afternoon and he'd been trying to find Pip all day. Just when he had been on the verge of giving up his search and checking into a travel lodge he'd made the decision to stop by the library. He had been hoping to find something to help him go longer undetected but none of the books seemed the kind to contain such things. Pip looked at him concerned.

"You don't have a place to stay?" Damien shook his head, flicking a flame in and out of existence on his finger where Pip couldn't see, "You could stay at mine if you wanted."

Damien snapped the flame out, practically beaming on the inside with the feeling of success. He did his best to seem only pleasantly surprised on the outside. He had played his cards exactly right, now he was getting exactly as he wanted. Pip was smiling ever so innocently and Damien did his best to smile back.

"I better get back to work, my shift ends at four so come back then." The blonde stood up and returned to work. Damien sat for a few minutes, occasionally looking round at him, before getting up, putting the book beside him back and leaving.

Trying to figure out what to do while he waited, the black haired man bought a sandwich and sat on a bench. There wasn't much to do in the town, seemed rather boring to him and remained a mystery why anyone would live there. After wandering the town for an hour he found a bar, a supermarket, a train station, two hairdressers and a sports centre, none of which were anywhere near each other. He'd expected more shops and such since there were so many people walking around but it seemed most buildings were just grey houses with only a couple on the market.

Damien walked round the whole town twice, getting lost a couple of times, and made it back to the library just as Pip was coming out. It took him a few minutes to find Damien among the bustling people moving to and from work or school. When he finally did, he gestured for the raven haired man to follow him, heading down a couple of alleyways to save time. Eventually, they stopped at a block of flats.

"I live in number 47." Pip informed him, unlocking the door into the run down building. Damien followed him up the filthy set of stairs eventually reaching number 47, where Pip stopped to open the door. For whatever reason, he seemed to have trouble finding his key, despite the small amount of things actually on his keyring or in his right pocket. For a minute or two, Pip fumbled with the keys before finally opening the door and going on in along with Damien. It wasn't much of a flat, the wallpaper slightly peeling and only seemed to have one bedroom. The front door led into the living room which was just about big enough for a couch and good sized TV. The anti-christ sat down on the couch only to have the blonde man lie down beside him and rest his head on his legs, the blonde man's own legs hanging over the end of the couch.

Before Damien could try to move him he found that Pip had already fell asleep, stopping any chance he had of moving without first moving the boy. Settling down he picked up the book and phone that were sitting on the arm of the couch beside him. After a good few minutes of flicking through pictures and contacts on the phone, he soon got bored noticing nothing out of the usual. He placed the phone down before taking a look at the book, being unable to notice the title, he decided it was not of interest to him. Damien sighed and looked at Pip who seemed to have no chance of waking up soon. This was taken as a good sign and Damien took extreme caution when moving out from under him and putting a cushion beneath his head instead. Slowly the raven haired man looked around the flat, finding it didn't get much better but it seemed to be what Pip could afford. After a few minutes of looking into the small rooms, he returned to the living room and looked around for something to do while he waited. It didn't take him long to notice a small laptop tucked away neatly beneath the couch.

Damien took it out and turned it on. It was a little scratched and missing the 'F5' key but, of course, worked perfectly. Pip hadn't bothered to put a password on since he had been living alone, so he never thought to, so it straight away opened an extremely bare desktop. He opened up the games folder and found a lot of games in there, mainly quite well known ones. Looking through them he ended up playing 'penumbra', which funnily enough had it's protagonist called Philip. It was a normal horror adventure game but it kept Damien busy until the Phillip on the couch finally stirred from his sleep and got up to make dinner, taking no notice of the fact Damien was using his laptop.

The blonde man lazily wiped the sleep away from his eyes, carefully slipping his phone back into his pocket before moving to the kitchen. It vibrated as soon as he turned the cooker on and he wasted no time checking the text. Pip bit his lip, staring at the text before deleting it and slipping the phone back into his pocket. Taking a quick moment to check on Damien, luckily not attracting his attention. Pip sighed with relief before returning to his cooking.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally putting this up on here.  
> Sorry this isn't a great or long chapter but hopefully it'll get better.


End file.
